


'Tis the Season

by oneortwo



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: The Animated Series
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Mistletoe, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28010751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneortwo/pseuds/oneortwo
Summary: When kissing can be deadly, mistletoe makes for an interesting holiday complication. Remy and Rogue have been dancing around each other long enough, and now it's his first Christmas at Xavier's mansion. A short, prompt-based Christmas One-Shot.
Relationships: Remy LeBeau/Rogue
Kudos: 16





	'Tis the Season

**Author's Note:**

> See End Notes for prompt.

Perhaps standing in a doorway under the mistletoe had been a bad idea. Rogue tarried there now, reflecting on the events that led her to have a strong, dashing, typically healthy man currently grasping at consciousness near her feet while "Silver Bells" played in the ballroom beyond.

Yet, instead of taking some life lessons to heart, she offered herself a heaping helping of absolution.

The whole debacle hadn't been her idea, Rogue told herself—it had been Gambit's. Some people just lacked common sense. Particularly, a certain Cajun thief whose real name was Remy LeBeau: a mutant with a flair for dramatics and absolutely _no_ reasonable amount of self-preservation.

Remy didn't _have_ to leave the party to look for Rogue when she was late. He didn't _have_ to notice the mistletoe hanging from the doorway where she halted.

But he had.

With two long strides, the man of Rogue's longtime dreams was right in front of her. The beautiful sight of Remy leaning his head down towards hers had disguised what was coming as a _good_ idea. It was, frankly, a dangerous and stupid idea, but one wrapped up in shiny paper and tied with a bow—the perfect gift. It was an idea she entertained as she stared up at his mouth.

Remy paused; Rogue was still confused. _Surely he wouldn't actually want to kiss me?_ she thought. _He knows full well I'd uncontrollably steal a hefty portion of his consciousness, not to mention his powers, leaving him as weak as a baby deer—who would risk_ that _happening on Christmas Eve?_ She took note of the other little voice inside her head that sang _Me! Me! I could!_

All questions were suddenly made clear as his dark eyes searched hers for an answer. She breathed "yes," and he leaned in the rest of the way. The noise from the party in the room beyond softened to a gentle purr in Rogue's ears.

And for that one brief instant, with their mouths on each other, the music gently rolling over them, Rogue decided this was the best idea Remy had ever had—that is, until her absorbing powers flared to life and the reckless man collapsed at her feet.

* * *

Now Remy groaned, his back propped against the foyer doorway. He sat sprawled on the marble floor, legs askew, gazing with unfocused eyes at the pesky mistletoe above. He loosened his black silk tie and attempted to meet Rogue's gaze. He couldn't quite find it and instead began speaking to a nearby light fixture.

"Rogue? I think my brain's gone missing, chere," he mumbled to the festively adorned lantern, attempting a joke that was more truth than not. "Do _you_ have it?"

Feeling helpless, Rogue gaped as she towered over the semi-coherent man. "Yup, it's—uh—safe and sound."

 _Well, relatively speaking. And this had been_ his _idea, that no good swamp rat,_ she told herself again, as if withholding pertinent elements of the truth from herself would somehow help things.

Rogue took a deep breath. No, she had played her part in this too, and had to face the facts that the man of her dreams was now lying slightly comatose, and gently drooling, near her feet. She balanced carefully on her three-inch sparkling heels as she squatted down to pat Remy's suit-clad shoulders. Her arms, covered by opera gloves, trembled slightly. "At least, one of us is thinking clearly right now."

_Thinking about that kiss._

Remy let out something close to a whimper.

"Just take a deep breath or something!" Rogue encouraged, trying to get the situation back on track.

" ' _Take a deep breath_?' It feels like my insides have been ripped out!"

"Yeah, I might have nabbed one or two of them," Rogue nodded, noting her suddenly acquired inclination to pick a pocket and kinetically explode any objects therein. The man's mutant powers were fascinating and tempting. She kept her hands off of her rented dress just in case. "Give it a couple minutes and you'll start to feel better."

Remy, ever patient, resumed waiting in exhaustion for his life force to replenish. He looked tired and his eyes didn't quite focus as he spoke, but the grin on his face framed his words as teasing when he scolded, "now don't go stealing my wallet with those borrowed thieving skills of yours!"

Rogue shook her head with a smile. "I wouldn't dream of it," she assured him.

 _I'd dream about other things, though. Trying that kiss again, for one._ _Things in a world where I wouldn't uncontrollably absorb you._

Things that could never happen.

* * *

For a long while the pair spoke in low undertones, gauging Remy's state of mind. His voice grew stronger in increments until normality resumed. Both physical strength and mental capacity had returned in equal measures, and they agreed he was ready to navigate under his own steam.

Their moment together had already passed, broken as soon as it started—Rogue figured there was no sense in drawing it out any longer. She quickly stood up. "Maybe we should go in to the party—" she hesitated, "—unless you'd rather call it an evening..." her voice trailed off. _Maybe he changed his mind and wants to leave me here. Maybe he no longer thinks that going down for the count was a good idea._ Uncertainty crept in; she patted her hair and adjusted her dress.

"We'll hit the party, Rogue—the night's still young," said Remy. Balance restored, he now rose to his feet and stretched, standing up to his full height. He held Rogue's gaze until her own eyes flitted away to stare at the ground. "Chere?" he murmured in a low voice.

Rogue swallowed, lifting her head and meeting his eyes once more, searching them for _something_. "Yeah, sugah?"

Remy bent down once more under the mistletoe to whisper in her ear, "It was worth it. Merry Christmas, Rogue."

She snatched up his bare hand with her gloved one and squeezed, giving a small laugh of relief. Her eyes shone with happiness and a smile bloomed as she murmured softly, "Best Christmas ever, Remy."

They looked down to observe the connection between their hands. Both wore matching grins on their faces, sharing a secret just between themselves. Following the call of music and lights, the couple walked out from underneath the mistletoe and into the party.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on writing prompt #36 by The Fake Redhead Writes:  
> "Just, take a deep breath or something!"  
> "TAKE A DEEP BREATH!? It feels like my insides are being RIPPED OUT!"


End file.
